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May 2016
She felt like being touched by God.
Maybe that's why I crave the strike of lightning, the closest feel of her fingers gracing my skin. Clouds flood her head full of rain that flush any thought I me down her never ending gutters.
She was always a storm, and I've always loved the rain.
De'Ann Tatarevich
Written by
De'Ann Tatarevich
289
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